On Jan. 25, Canadians had the opportunity to participate in the annual Bell Let’s Talk campaign. This campaign has been plastered all over social media, television, and the sides of buses in an effective, albeit overly branded, manner. But who does Bell Let’s Talk really serve—and has it really created social change?

First and foremost, Bell Let’s Talk benefits Bell. This type of strategy is referred to as “cause marketing,” and is an effective means of branding your company as socially conscious and thus an ethical alternative to competitors. Prior to beginning this campaign, Bell’s average annual stock price was plummeting. But since the inception of Bell Let’s Talk, the stock price has been climbing back steadily. The truth is, Bell is a multibillion dollar corporation. The $6 million donated last year is less than 0.03 per cent of the organization’s annual revenue.

That being said, just because Bell benefits that does not mean the campaign is inherently negative. But it is important to follow where the money is going. Bell Let’s Talk touts the Community Initiative Fund, which gave $6 million to different organizations related to mental health across the country in 2016. But a substantial portion of this money has gone to publically funded institutions, like hospitals and universities, as opposed to grassroots organizations who deal with many of the day-to-day issues of mental illnesses. Indeed, while Bell prepares for the eighth annual day of mental health discussion, the federal and provincial governments of Canada have been coming to agreements that effectively slash the growth of healthcare, with the most devastating impacts on growing mental health needs. This type of movement towards privatized healthcare systems excludes folks with mental illnesses, who are disproportionately low income.

Speaking of those individuals, they are blatantly absent in this whole campaign. We have grown accustomed to seeing the faces of Clara Hughes and Howie Mandel promoting Bell by vaguely sharing their own lived experiences of recovery, but what about those of us living with mental illness daily, who cannot recover because of high treatment costs? The website for Bell Let’s Talk reveals little representation of any narrative other than “inspirational” recovery. But centring only the voices of the recovered does little to represent the realities of mental illness, or provide the appropriate assistance to those still living with mental illness.

Those with serious mental illness have rates of unemployment as high as 90 per cent in Canada. Mental illness is as high as 70 per cent in homeless individuals in our country. Inuit suicide rates are over five times that of the Canadian average. Forty per cent of police shootings in Canada over the last decade have involved individuals living with mental illness. These voices of the street-involved, racialized, Indigenous, queer, trans, low income, unemployed, veteran, immigrant, and any combination of these identities continue to be left out of the conversation, and little is done to provide tangible policy protections for them.

This isn’t to say people should not engage in this day of reducing stigma. Absolutely, take part in Bell Let’s Talk—but don’t stop at just talking one day a year. Act.

Contact your local police department and demand they train every officer in proper de-escalation strategies for folks in crisis. Lobby your local government representatives for increased funding into universal mental health care. Speak to your employer about their sick leave practices, and if they are making efforts to provide accommodations to those living with psychiatric illness. Consider making donations to local organizations that help those living with mental illness like Psychiatric Survivors of Ottawa, or Odawa Native Friendship Centre.

Until then, each text or message you sent will be akin to just flicking nickels at us, and hoping we will go away.